60 Is The Beginning of Old Age

 I forget what writer said that, but I fully subscribe to it. And I'm more than a year into this final chapter!

My itinerary today begins soon -- Wifey and I are driving up to Bay Harbor for Grandparents' Day at the adorable toddler's preschool. D1 said, if possible, I should stand in for Clio, a central casting lovely British 3 year old who speaks like a character in an English movie. Her grandparents are in the UK, and will only attend by Zoom.

After that, I have a 1 pm appointment with Dr. Mike, a physical therapist, to deal with my now more than 3 week bout of hip area pain. He tells me it's just a bad pulled glute muscle. As a young man, it would have improved in a few days -- now it's onto a second fortnight. Hey -- fortnight is a term only old men use.

Fortunately Wifey is doing better physically these days. As she drank her coffee, which I told her she would NOT get brought to her upstairs on account of my hip hurts most in the am, I told her I got the thinking of our former neighbor Alfredo. He's my age, and married a former stripper (Jewish girl from the Main Line in a Carl Hiassen twist) younger than his first wife produced kids. He has 5 little ones with her, including a toddler. There is NO WAY he can be an old man with such a young family, right?

Wifey smirked at me. She's a world class smirker, like her late mother, especially when I say something absurd. She knows I totally reject the idea of more kids at my age. The Ds are blessing enough, by far!

I think about my Dad, as always, an awful lot. At 61 he was retired, enjoying the fruits of his labors -- following WW II he worked three separate jobs to support his family. His only worries were of his kids, especially my California sister, who had married the absolute wrong guy. But Dad happily felt like an old man.

He reported that conversations in the Kings Point pool, among his fellow Greatest Generation cohorts, were which banks paid the highest CD rates, and which urologists were best.

Oh yeah -- I have another task today: I have to meet with banker friend Carole to give her a check to open a, wait for it, CD. Rates have come up a bit, and as an old man am far more risk averse, and thus not adding to my stock portfolio.

But still, my gratitude overflows. Each day is truly a gift from the Big Man, and I thank Him for it.

Speaking of religion, Rabbi Yossi called yesterday, to catch up and invite me to check on the construction of the new Center he and Nechama are building. It's a remarkable place -- shul, of course, but mainly a place where special needs kids meet with their "friendship buddies."

Yossi is 9 years younger than I, but with far more energy. In the midst of this huge project -- he's starting another: looking for investors and space to open a glatt kosher restaurant in South Miami Dade. I hope he succeeds -- and they get a liquor license. Vodka is almost always glatt kosher.

So soon we're off. Our oldest grandson is such a joy to be around. He savors his life. Last Sunday I told D1 and Joey I already see him as the president of his fraternity -- the guy who starts the party. D1 said "Oh --like his Grandpa Dave, eh?" Yes, I guess that was true.

As for today, it's just a lovely event. Many of the kids in that school have a medical condition first taught to me by Dr. Barry's colleagues when Barry was a Pediatric resident. The condition is called GLM -- which stands for Good Looking Mother. Thankfully it's a condition that is easily lived with.

Dad jokes. Another sign of old, or older age. And it's fine, though I could happily do without the hip pain.